


Glue Doesn't Always Hold

by LittleGreenWoman



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Everything is Kinda Vague, Hurt No Comfort, I have a thing for vagueness, If that makes you feel better, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Keith/OC I suppose, M/M, Mentions of Other Voltron Paladins, Open to Interpretation, Past Allura/Lance (Voltron), Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 07:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20903708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleGreenWoman/pseuds/LittleGreenWoman
Summary: Self sacrifice to save the future is contagious and Lance seems to have caught it from his late girlfriend. Keith suffers but moves on, if you believe in such a thing. No details on whats or hows, this is a feelings piece solely for the purpose of making myself cry.





	Glue Doesn't Always Hold

**Author's Note:**

> First post here on AO3, oneshot, I tried multi chapters before and found that I am very unreliable so not pushing it. Thanks for reading!

Keith was lounging comfortably on the sofa, his head resting on his boyfriend’s lap, eyes half closed as gentle fingers threaded through his hair.

He was calm and content, glad to be where he was. Then the fingers stopped moving, and Keith gazed up at the blue eyed man’s thoughtful face through half lidded eyes.

“You know,” he began as Keith straightened up a bit, “all the others mentioned it once or twice, except for you. I sometimes wonder why that is.”

“Mentioned what?” Keith asked, sliding back into his previous position, letting the long, tan fingers continue their work.

“That I resemble him.”

Keith froze first, breath caught in his throat. It felt like his heart doubled its pace, a reaction he never managed to stifle whenever _he_ was mentioned. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a small sigh.

“I get why they would think that,” he said softly. The man was tall and tan, with piercing blue eyes. But as far as Keith was concerned, the resemblance ended there.

There was no sparkle of mischief each time his gaze landed on Keith for instance. His mouth didn’t spout a hundred words per second either. He never antagonized Keith just to get a rise out of him or constantly challenged him just to have his ass handed to him; still smirking like he’d won some sort of victory.

He never made Keith feel like he’s falling where he stood, just by giving him that crooked smile.

“But I don’t think you are alike at all.”

_You never made me suffer so much that I didn’t think I would ever recover._

The man just hummed and said nothing further, seemingly unaware of the hurricane he awakened within Keith’s chest. He did not follow as Keith quietly stood up and walked away.

No, they were nothing alike. His boyfriend was so patient with Keith, always gave him his space, never pushed him when he clammed up, never made him mad.

Keith never had to face the dilemma of kicking him or kissing him. It had been a long time since he felt that.

But he was in a good place now. He had moved on.

Unlike that infuriating asshole who had just refused to do the same.

Lance had just stopped; that was how Keith had felt. He had stopped moving, stopped growing. Instead of getting better, he had wilted by the minute; as if the sun was taken away from his skies.

Maybe to him, it had been.

His eyes would only light up briefly when he mentioned her name, until the reality caught up with him. Keith could see the transition, how he would turn away from them, the once expressive hands slowly dropping to his sides, brilliant blues dim.

By the end of it, he was reduced to a depressing silence and broken smiles.

They had tried, Keith knew. He still had to tell it to himself often, that they did indeed try, and they did try hard enough.

They had kept trying. They would have kept trying. Keith would have never given up.

Even after seeing Pidge sob against Hunk’s chest, whispering, “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

Hunk had just held her tighter, shaking his head. But when his eyes had met Keith’s, without a shred of hope, Keith could only storm off.

Lance hadn’t been gone, not then. But Keith still had felt the need to just see for himself, to touch, to make sure.

When he’d arrived at the farm; disheveled, terrified and out of breath; Lance was leaning against a tree, eyes toward the horizon where the pinks and reds of the sunset met the various shades of green.

The look on his face was mirroring Allura’s, as she had said her goodbyes.

Keith’s feet had moved on their own then, almost breaking into a run with the irrational fear of Lance just disappearing into the horizon.

Lance had looked at him, with soft eyes and a surprised smile free of pain for once; one still haunted Keith to this day.

They had stood face to face and Keith had just heard his own mouth say, “Don’t go.”

When Lance had embraced him, Keith was already fighting his tears. “Just don’t go,” he’d repeated, taking in the warmth, the shaky sigh against his ear, the strength of the arms that had held him tighter.

That had been the first time he’d seen Lance cry, since the day Allura had left them.

He hadn’t planned to kiss him, it had just happened; perhaps out of desperation when his arms were loosening their hold around Keith. He certainly had not expected Lance to kiss him back, just as desperate.

He hadn’t planned to wake up next to the Lance the morning after either; aching and bruised in the best way possible.

Looking back, Keith knew he never should have crossed that line.

Never should have taken that step that had caused his skin to burn for more, causing his longing to grow tenfold, leaving him haunted by dreams where Lance breathed his name in his ear, but mumbled another name while he slept.

He never should have pretended that Lance was his, when he was never graced by the awed smiles which were reserved for a certain princess with jewels in her eyes.

And even now, when Keith thought about it he knew he should feel something akin to regret; he still didn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to regret holding Lance, kissing his shoulders as he was waking up, tracing the scar across his chest.

He couldn’t regret realizing he smelled like the man he loved just before he stepped into the shower.

The realization had not hit Keith as hard as he’d thought it would, that he loved Lance.

It had been already there, he supposed. It was not new.

It was like something you packed while you were moving and forgot about it later; only to find it again when you were actually looking for something else. The familiarity of it, the memory of having it all along suddenly returning to you.

It seemed nothing but Lance McClain could fill his life with ‘never should have’s, because he knew he never should have said it.

It wasn’t like he had expected it to be returned, but the way Lance had winced; the way his hand had involuntarily reached the marks under his eyes chipped away another piece of Keith’s heart.

He never should have expected more of a broken man. He never should have thought he could put the pieces back together, could be the one to fix him.

He should have stopped it all then and there.

Then again, Keith was never one to think things thorough before he acted.

So yeah, he understood why Pidge or Hunk would think that his boyfriend resembled Lance. He understood why they would want to.

But only Lance could have fooled them into thinking he was getting better, and fooled them he had.

Keith had even seen glimpses of his old self, the glint in his eye before he made a stupid joke, the way he hadn’t seemed absent when they had gathered.

They all had been elated when Lance was back at the Garrison, teaching and taking on missions.

Shiro hadn’t been able to stop smiling for two days straight, and even Coran had seemed more talkative than usual.

And Keith had thought; despite the constant pain of being overshadowed by someone he could no longer compete with; that it was enough. Having Lance by their side, not standing still but actually _living_ was enough.

He had hung on to each tiny remark he made like they were the breadcrumbs marking the way home.

He’d really thought Lance was coming back, they all had.

They’d read the signs all wrong.

It had only been his way of saying goodbye, giving them all that he had left of the friend he once had been to them, all the while knowing it wouldn’t last long.

Keith had not known Lance to be cruel before.

If Allura’s sacrifice was a beautiful, bittersweet scar; Lance’s was an ugly, gaping wound that would keep bleeding.

When Pidge had managed to get her hands on the ‘eyes only’ mission brief and the report, Keith went over it maybe a hundred times. Each time it made perfect sense and did not make any sense at all. Pidge and Hunk had read it only once; and Hunk, the gentlest being Keith had ever known, had punched a hole in his wall.

“He knew,” Hunk had said, sounding livid but heartbroken. “He knew he wasn’t coming back.”

The asshole had not even said goodbye as he up and left at dawn, lying through his teeth when Keith saw him the very last time.

The sunrise was painting him a fiery orange as he had given him a strange look, one Keith had been too sleepy to interpret.

Another memory that will haunt him forever, along with the last ever words he had heard his sharpshooter say to him.

“Go back to sleep samurai, I’ll be back in a second.”

.

.

.

So nobody could blame him if he sometimes missed the sharpshooter so terribly that it felt if he screamed, he would bring his house down.

Or if he allowed himself to shed a tear or two when some silly thing sparked a memory that had been long shelved.

Or if he hated himself for wishing the fingers threading through his hair were Lance’s instead.

If he would trade this calm with a world of pain in a heartbeat if he could.

If he had to lie to himself everyday to not come apart at the seams, that he had moved on, he was content, he was glad to be where he was; for the sake of his friends and family and the planets that still needed him.

No, Keith did not think anybody could blame him if some days he felt he could not wait to join Lance, wherever he was.

* * *

_“It’s okay princess,” Lance whispered, touching the glowing marks under his eyes as they resonated softly with regret. “I made a promise I would keep them safe. This is not on you.”_

_He took one last look at himself in the mirror, and exited to the bedroom._

_Keith stirred in his sleep at the sound, and Lance just stood there watching the dark strands of hair falling on the pillow and his pale cheek. The sun was rising, and when the amber light fell on Keith’s face, his brows furrowed before he cracked one eye open._

_Lance closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and managed a little smile despite the war that was going on inside his heart. “Go back to sleep samurai,” he said as the sunrise turned bright and furious._

_“I’ll be back in a second.”_

_He knew he wouldn’t._

.

.

.

Deep in space, Lance saw the futures that could happen; so many of them; some terrifying, some beautiful, some both. He didn’t know if it was a trick of his mind, or a result of the quintessence he was exposed to, not that it mattered.

Lance would not be in any of them, to make sure any of them actually happened.

He saw snippets of his life as well, how it had always been colored by love.

He wished to have another chance, in another life, in another reality; and he wished, he wished, he wished.

He then whispered into the broken comm of his ship, words no one would ever hear.

“I am sorry for what I have to put you through… I wish there had been any other way. I am sorry for wasting so much time; I am sorry I couldn’t tell you that I love you too Samurai, and I fucking love you in all realities and whatever existence that’s left of me after this will keep on loving you to the ends of time.”

He let out a breathy chuckle as the quintessence field closed in.

“See you on the other side, mullet.”


End file.
